


Inside The Fortress of Solitude (Or How Adam Lambert Rescued Kris Allen Unnecessarily)

by KayCeeCruz



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-14
Updated: 2011-06-14
Packaged: 2017-10-20 10:03:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/211568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KayCeeCruz/pseuds/KayCeeCruz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>All Kris wanted was a few days of quiet. Adam and their friends have a different plan. Featuring babies, snowstorms, Brad being awesome and Adam and Kris being ridiculous. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Inside The Fortress of Solitude (Or How Adam Lambert Rescued Kris Allen Unnecessarily)

**Author's Note:**

> Based off [this prompt](http://kradamadness.dreamwidth.org/43100.html?thread=4506972#cmt4506972) by jeyhawk. Fanart by lc2l. Beta-reading by wouldbedorothy and tsarcasm. This is my first completed story in this fandom. \O/ May kill with the schmoop. Oh, and if you don't already know...this is MPREG. :)

  


 

 

He’s pretty sure he’s dreaming.

That’s really all Kris can think when he’s woken up in the middle of the night to banging on the cabin door. It takes him a couple of minutes to remember where he is, already used to the light coming in through the window in Adam’s guest room. He shakes his head, pushing that out of his mind, and swings his legs off the bed. By the time he gets up and is heading toward the door, it’s rattling from the pounding it’s getting.

“Jesus. Hold on.”

He fumbles with the locks, glancing out the window at the snow that’s still falling, covering everything in sight, like it has been for the last day. He can’t imagine anyone being out in that.

Unless they had gotten stuck in it and had stumbled upon the cabin. Which probably meant they were close to freezing to death or something.

The thought makes him yank the door open.

He blinks when he finally focuses on the scene.

Adam is standing on the porch, engulfed in a thick silver parka, holding a flashlight which he shines in Kris’ direction, blinding him.

“Kris! Oh, thank god you’re okay, baby.”

Of _course_ he’s okay. _He’s_ not the lunatic out in the middle of the worst storm that Arkansas has seen in the last _decade_. He waves a hand at Adam. “Turn that off.”

“Oh, sorry.”

The light blinks out and Adam grabs him into a tight hug, dropping random kisses on his head. He ignores the way his heart kind of stutters at that and waits until his vision clears. When it does, he thinks that maybe all that bright light caused some damage, because it’s not possible that he’s seeing what he is.

“Adam?”

“Hmm?” Adam pulls back to look at his face.

“Is that a snow plow?”

Adam turns his head to glance over his shoulder, then back at Kris with a big grin. “Yes, it is.”

He takes in the scene: a snow plow followed by another car, filled with…

“Are those your friends in that car?”

Cam and Cassidy smile, their heads sticking out of the back window. Alisan is waving at him from the passenger seat. His gaze shifts to the huge monstrosity still roaring its engine. Is that…?

“Hey, Kris,” Tommy -- mostly covered up except for his face -- greets him with his free hand (the one not holding a shovel).

Kris waves back at him, and at Sasha, who has what he thinks is a first aid kit in her lap. Monte is in the driver’s seat, and he seems to be talking to someone Kris doesn’t recognize.

Except for the white coat that makes identifying _what_ he is easier.

Kris looks up at Adam.

Adam makes a _ta-da!_ gesture with his hands, looking a little sheepish at least, and exclaims, “We came to rescue you!”

 

 

It was actually Scarlett’s idea.

The first three months of the pregnancy had been horrible (which Kris thought was cruel and unusual punishment but his mother assured him was just a natural process), and between his morning sickness, the crankiness and fatigue, he hadn't exactly been fit for human consumption.

(He still feels pretty bad about Adam’s television.)

But Scarlett had ignored Kris’ hormone-induced emotional outbursts (he did _not_ cry, no matter what Charles said) and made sure to help Kris out with whatever she could. Admittedly, it'd been nice to have someone to talk to when he freaked out (which he did, a few times, every day, for like two weeks straight) and to tell him about the good side to the whole situation.

Scarlett had been where Kris was, albeit not in the _exact_ same situation, so her advice and support was really important to him.

And once everything calmed down, including his own body’s attempts at killing him, Kris was grateful for the friendship he’d made.

(Not that he didn’t like all of Adam’s friends, because he did, even Brad, but he’d always felt a little self-conscious in their presence. A little not glam, which-- well, really.)

Scarlett was funny, sweet but snarky, and pretty damn bossy to boot.

So when she looked across the table at him during one of their lunch dates and said, “Kristopher, you need some serious R&R, sweetheart, especially before the baby comes. Because trust me, once she is here, you’re going to wish so hard for it.”

He argued. He was in the middle of writing for his next album. Even if he hadn't _actually_ written anything worthwhile in two months, he was supposed to be doing just that.

“Well, a vacation will help recharge you. Probably get those creative juices going. What you need is somewhere quiet, some solitude to think and write.”

Kris looked up at her with a smirk. “You trying to say I need a padded room, Scarlett?”

She laughed and they went back to their food, talked about her latest project, and Kris tried to completely forget the conversation.

But a week later, when he couldn't concentrate for all the noise in the house, he started to think she might have a point. Adam had hired people to build a nursery, and though Kris understands how important that is, it's not a way he can function. (It was one of the reasons he’d been so adamant against moving into Adam’s house, but he’d relented because Adam had given him _that_ wounded look and Kris can’t actually bear to see that, would do pretty much anything to make it go away… Which is how they've gotten to where they are.)

He remembered the family cabin, and after calling his dad to make sure it was habitable, he arranged his transportation, got Lizzie to push back any appointments he had for the week, called both Leila and his mother to tell them where he'd be, and then left Adam a message letting him know his plan.

(Granted, he waited until he knew Adam would be on stage before leaving the message, to avoid the argument he was pretty sure would occur, but at least he told him.)

And it went really well.

His dad sent someone ahead to clean up the cabin so when Kris got there it was ready. Kris was able to breathe for the first time in months when he stepped through the door. It was calm and soothing. Quiet and serene. Something he hadn't been able to experience in a while. Even if Kris pretty much loved all the noise and crazy currently in his life, he couldn't help but need a reprieve.

He started writing almost right away, his guitar in his arms, pen at the ready, which was why he didn't notice the raging blizzard outside his window until almost sundown. When he did see all the white covering everything in sight, he reached for his phone to find he had no signal.

He figured his parents and Leila wouldn't worry too much.

But Adam… he knew Adam was going to have a fit. He worried as it was, all the time.

Too much, if you asked Kris. (But no one did, so.) Part of him warmed at knowing that, his heart bursting with love for Adam, and the other wished it meant more than it did.

There wasn't anything he could do until the storm passed and he could call out again. He planned to contact Adam immediately, as soon as the lines opened up, to reassure him that they were fine.

Kris didn't mind the solitude, cut off from the world for some time. He enjoyed being alone, though now he really wasn't. He smoothed a hand across his stomach and smiled. This was good. He could work like this.

There was plenty of food in the kitchen and firewood in the storage closet. A lot of DVDs and CDs available when he needed a break. The book Tommy had insisted Kris would _“love. It’s gnarly, Kris!”_ sitting on the nightstand.

He could easily last a week before he needed to start worrying. Kris was pretty sure the storm wouldn't be lasting that long.

When the exhaustion hit, Kris set his work aside and headed to the bedroom. He’d stolen Adam’s comforter from his bed before leaving the house, something he always did when Adam was out of town and Kris couldn't get his daily Adam fix. It smelled like Adam, and Kris liked to curl up in it.

So he did, falling asleep easier than he had in weeks.

And then Adam showed up at his door, throwing his peace into shambles.

It really was fucking symbolic.

 

 

Kris watches the crowd of people trample in through the door, greeting him with a hug or kiss or both (except in the case of the nervous-looking doctor who enters with Monte, and seriously, this is not happening), before turning to look at Adam. Kris thinks this is the most surreal dream ever or-- no, it’s his life. Really.

Adam takes one look at his face, grabs his arm and pushes Kris in the direction of the bedroom, saying over his shoulder, “Just hang a minute, guys.”

He closes the bedroom door and turns to Kris.

“Okay, I can explain.”

Kris crosses his arms and waits.

“I, _maybe_ , overreacted a little when they told me where you were and how no one could reach you--”

“It’s only been a day, Adam!” Kris throws his hands up, narrows his eyes. “Wait, how did you know I was here?” His mother wouldn’t have told him, since Kris asked that no one bother him. Leila probably wouldn’t have either. “I didn’t mention _exactly_ where I was in my message.”

“Neil.”

Neil?

“I didn’t tell him--” Then it dawns on him. “ _My father, Neil?_ ”

“Well, he was a little worried, too.”

Traitor. See if Kris lets him see his grandkid before she turns eighteen.

Adam looks amused and Kris glares.

“What?”

“Nothing. I just missed your face.”

Kris tells his stupid heart to stop it.

“Adam, seriously? Did you just haul half your band and friends, not to mention a doctor -- and where the _hell_ did you get him from -- through a snowstorm to come and rescue me from a perfectly comfortable vacation?”

“Well, I needed backup. Just in case. And the doctor was at the hotel for emergencies, so I kind of sequestered him. And the snow plow.”

“You _kidnapped_ him?” Kris asks, incredulous.

“That’s a strong word. I borrowed them both.”

“You stole them!”

“Stealing means you have no intention of returning. As soon as you grab your things and we return to the hotel, they’ll both be back where they belong.”

Kris doesn’t even know what to say to that.

“I-- Adam, I’m in the middle of writing--”

“Which you could do at the hotel. The place is amazing, Kris.”

Kris groans, wipes a hand down his face and counts to ten.

This is so like Adam. To just dive head first, no thinking about it, going with his instincts, and if Kris didn’t love him so much, he’d seriously hate him right about this moment.

He tries a different tactic.

“Adam, listen to me. I’m okay. See? All in one piece. The baby is fine. There’s plenty of food. I’ll be back at your house in a week. Like I said. Please, just-- I need this.”

Adam shakes his head. “What if something happens?”

“Nothing will.”

He waits to see what comes next, and then Adam’s eyes light up and he grins. “I can stay with you.”

Oh, hell no.

He can’t be alone with Adam because he‘ll do something stupid. Like tell him he loves him. It’s the one of the other reasons that he needs a little space (and he’s pretty sure Scarlett knew that when she made her suggestion): his resistance to Adam is pretty low.

It’s too much _want_ and _need_ and _can’t have_ all rolled into this one man.

It’s hard to breathe around him some days.

Living with Adam is like a wonderfully horrible kind of torture. He needs the space to be able to think and rebuild those walls that have crumbled since he moved in with him.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Adam smiles at him, the one that’s wide and real. “It’s a great idea.”

“You’re really not going to let this go, are you?”

Adam shakes his head.

Kris sighs, turns his back to Adam and tries to think of a solution. Nothing is really coming to him.

“You’re mad at me.”

Kris resists the urge to snap at Adam that _no, he’s not mad_ , because honestly it’s not Adam, it’s Kris’ hormones and he knows that. Adam is just being his sweet, wonderful, really _fucking hot_ self in that ridiculous silver parka and the smudged eyeliner around his _fucking gorgeous_ eyes and his teeth biting on his lips in worry and Kris really needs to not be looking at him right this moment because damn it he’s hard and aching and _this, this_ was why he needed time away.

Instead he shakes his head, admonishes himself silently for all the internal cursing he seems to be doing these days, and says a quick, “I’m not.”

Adam tilts his head to the side and raises an eyebrow. “Yes, you are.”

Kris glares at him. “Adam.”

Adam stares back, and after a minute Kris sighs, shoulders slumping. He’s really just so tired.

“I may be a _little_ irritated but I’m not mad.”

He can hear the commotion in the other room, voices carrying through the crack under the door, and he just breathes through the need to make them all leave him alone with his peace and quiet. The song that’s been rolling around in his head for weeks is getting louder and Kris _needs_ to get it out.

Adam takes a step closer, crowding into Kris’ space, making his heart race, his breath quickening at the proximity. He’s been really good at keeping his distance from Adam. He wants to back away but Adam’s hand reaches up to touch Kris’ face, fingers tracing over his cheek, and he can’t help but meet Adam’s eyes, freezes at the sincerity there.

“I was-- I was really worried, Kris.”

Kris looks away, nods as Adam’s hand falls away.

“I know you worry about the baby but Adam--”

“That’s not the only reason I was freaked, Kris. I just-- I need you _both_ to be safe. Do you understand that?”

Kris feels that familiar rush of hope and want and fear rush up and he can’t let himself go there. Can’t really believe it, because Adam had said no and the only thing different between then and now was the baby.

He looks up at Adam’s face, open and scared and just a little bit annoyed, and Kris smiles despite himself. He moves forward, watches Adam’s eyes widen when Kris’ hands cup his face. “I get it, yeah. But you gotta know I’m not gonna do anything that’s gonna hurt her. You know that, right?”

“I know,” Adam whispers and something changes, his gaze darkens and moves from Kris’ eyes to his lips. It makes him nervous, makes him drop his hands, and Kris opens his mouth to say anything that will break the spell but Adam is fast, and suddenly his fingers are stroking over Kris’ lips. He feels a little dizzy, thinks that’s the reason he’s swaying into Adam and…

“Hey, guys-- oh, shit. Sorry.” Tommy gives them an apologetic look, starts back out the door, and Kris takes the moment to move away from Adam.

“It’s okay, Tommy Joe.” He glances back at Tommy, smiles softly before returning his gaze to Adam.

Adam keeps his eyes on Kris’ face, searching for something and Kris isn’t sure what it might be. “What did you need, Tommy?”

“Oh, right. Well, the snow’s not letting up and probably won’t be for a while. And um, the doc says he really needs to get back to the hotel, you know, just in case, so we should probably head back.” Tommy is looking from Adam to Kris and back expectantly.

Adam just blinks at Kris, waiting for him to say the word.

Kris knows Adam won’t leave him here, not with the storm still raging for who knows how long. He’ll stay with Kris and drive him nuts with his face and his hands and his voice. He won’t be able to escape him for even a minute in this stupid cabin.

Kris turns away from Adam’s heated glare, bends to pull the duffel bag from under the bed and heads to the small dresser where he’d dumped his clothes.

“Can one of you grab the guitar, please?”

He doesn’t look at Adam but Kris can sense his smile without needing to see it.

Fine. He’ll go to the stupid hotel and stay with Adam and let him feed him and worry over him. Then he’ll bribe someone to distract Adam so Kris can find a hiding place (he’ll have better luck there than here) to finish his song.

In quiet.

“Let’s rock and roll, people!” Tommy yells and Kris cringes, breathes deep when he hears his, “For fuck’s sake, Sasha, that’s Kris’ guitar!”

Hiding place. For sure.

 

 

Kris is in love with Adam.

He has been for a very long time (possibly longer than he should have been).

That’s not the problem.

It’s that Kris has horrible timing. Like, the worst. Ever.

If he’d just realized sooner after his divorce (or paid more attention to the hints Katy kept dropping about it) then he would have talked to Adam. Maybe figured out if he felt the same way. (He thinks that Katy calling him an idiot when he told her this was uncalled for. Really.) He could have, at least, gotten it off his chest, worked through it and somehow managed to get over it. (Not that he actually thinks that’s a possibility. but he would have liked to have been able to _try_.)

But he didn’t think too closely about his feelings for Adam. He took everything bottled inside, the burning and aching he felt, and turned it into his third album. The one that had gone platinum practically overnight, and Kris had been caught up in the touring, the media blitz, and everything that came with that.

And Adam had been there for it. Encouraging Kris. Telling him how proud he was. Making him shut up when Kris said he didn’t think he deserved it. He made it easier for Kris, sweeter and crazier.

By the time he’d found the courage to admit that he was in love, stupidly and desperately, a year had passed.

The thing about Kris, though, is that once he knows something, once he understands what he wants, he takes the steps to get it.

So he’d no sooner landed in L.A. than he was headed to Adam’s. Trying to find the words to tell him how he felt as he knocked on the door to Adam’s house.

And that’s when he’d met Preston.

Kris couldn’t breathe as Adam introduced him (after yelling at Kris for not telling him he was coming back home, then crushing him in a warm hug) to the dancer he’d met on the brief tour he’d given in Europe. His eyes bright and happy as he looked at Kris, hands on Preston’s waist always moving, and smile so wide Kris thought it might actually break his face.

Adam hadn’t looked so content in as long as Kris could remember.

Kris was apparently a better actor than he’d given himself credit for because he smiled back, hugged and congratulated Adam, sitting at the dining room table with everyone Adam had invited to what he learned was Preston’s introduction to his group of friends. Kris ate and drank, laughing at the right moments, ignoring his breaking heart.

(He remembers the look Brad gave him from across the table and how he’d hugged Kris a little tighter at the end of the night.)

And that was it.

Adam had found someone and Preston was awesome. He was funny and really sweet and Kris actually liked him, which made everything _suck_ even more.

Katy tried to talk him into telling Adam, anyway. Said he should know because it wasn’t fair otherwise.

But…

What would be the point?

Because this-- this was Adam.

 _Adam._

Amazing and ridiculously talented and gorgeous and funny and glittery and everything good that Kris could think of.

Kris was…

Well, he was just Kris, and honestly, what chance did he have? (Katy had actually hit him for that one.)

So he shut off all _those kind_ of thoughts about Adam, buried his feelings as deep as he could, and went back to living the life he’d been building before his big self-revelation.

For the most part, it worked.

Then one day Preston and Adam ended.

And everything changed completely.

 

 

The ride down the mountain to the hotel is pretty uneventful, even as the snow keeps dropping fast in big fat flakes. Kris listens to Tommy and Sasha argue over some new arrangements the band was working on, giving his opinion when they ask. Alisan and Adam are having an intense conversation in the seat across from them that Kris can’t and -- with the glances they keep flicking his way -- doesn’t really _want_ to hear. He tries to concentrate on the road, hopes that Monte can handle the snow plow that’s clearing their way.

He can’t decide if he’s happy that Adam is giving him space or if that’s the reason his stomach feels twisted in knots. He knows it’s nerves and thankfully not the morning sickness that plagued him at the beginning. He pats his belly gently, murmurs a soft, “It’s alright, kiddo,” and looks up in time to catch Adam watching him, expression caught between adoring and worry. It’s his default setting these days. Kris mouths, _“It’s all good,”_ and receives a grin in return.

His heart does that stupid fluttering thing it always does and Kris bites back a sigh.

He is doomed.

It doesn’t take long to reach the hotel (thankfully) and he doesn’t say anything when Adam helps him out of the car, guides him into the lobby. (So, maybe he is feeling a _little_ guilty for not giving Adam more of a heads up.) Adam’s fingers flex on his waist, making Kris look up and smile. He notices the way Adam’s eyes soften at the edges and he opens his mouth to say something.

The screeching -- because, really, that’s the only way Kris can describe it -- of his name from across the room startles them and Kris turns his head in time to see a red streak of energy and hair coming toward him. He opens his arms to hug Allison back, laughing when she clutches at him hard.

“Allison!” Kris hears the exasperation in Adam’s voice and feels hands pulling at Alli’s arms.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Adam. It’s not like she can squeeze the kid out of him or anything.”

Kris looks up, grinning as Brad closes in on him and piles onto the hug, making it hard for Kris to breathe.

“Seriously?” Adam says through a loud sigh and Brad pulls away, rolling his eyes.

When Allison finally lets him go, she hits him on the shoulder. “What the hell, Kris? Scaring the shit out of us like that. It’s not cool, bro.”

“Oh. Jeez. I didn’t run away from home, Allison.” He ignores the way Brad’s eyebrow raises up slightly. “I just needed some quiet to write. That’s all.”

“Whatever. You should have called. Or at least a text. I have to hear from Adam that you’re, like, missing.”

He turns to look at Adam, who stares back at him. “Tell me she’s kidding, Adam.”

Brad shakes his head. “Nope. He gathered the troops for Operation: Save Kristopher, even though _some of us_ told him he was being ridiculous.”

He really looks at Adam, sees the shadows under his eyes and the guilt grows exponentially, his chest aching from having done that to him. “Adam.”

Before he can say anything else, Monte is heading toward them with the older man in the white coat -- Dr. Echelon, Kris remembers Adam having called him --and the next few minutes are spent having Kris checked out. He grits his teeth through it because Adam seems less tense as the doctor examines him.

“All right, Kris. You’re perfectly healthy. Are you feeling okay? Any nausea? Pain?”

Kris shakes his head, waves a hand. “Past that.”

“Good. I don’t have any equipment here to monitor the baby, but I think everything is fine.” He smiles kindly at Kris and then Adam.

Kris watches Adam’s shoulders relax and feels that stab in his chest again. He reaches a hand out, grabs Adam’s, and lacing their fingers, pulls him closer. Adam moves easily, bending to look Kris in the eye, swallowing visibly when Kris touches his cheek.

“Stop worrying so much, please.” He wrinkles his nose and sighs. “Because seriously, Adam, we’ve got another four and a half months of this, okay? And I cannot take you freaking out on me every time I, like, sneeze or pick up a box.”

Adam gives him a sheepish smile. “It looked heavy.”

Kris rolls his eyes, leans his forehead on Adam’s and lets out a soft laugh. “It had pillows in it, Adam.” From this close up, he can see the way Adam’s eyelashes fan out on his face. “I love our baby, you _know_ that. I’m not going to take any chances with her. You got to trust me on this.”

Adam looks surprised, then earnest when he whispers a soft, “I do.”

Kris pulls back to gauge Adam’s face, and satisfied that he means it, he lets his hand fall onto his lap and turns to glance up at the doctor. “So, I can totally walk on my own right, Doc? I’m not going to need a wheelchair or some huge bodyguard to carry me?” He sees Ronnie move into position in the background and bites back a grin. “No matter how awesome of a bodyguard they are.”

Dr. Echelon smiles warmly and shakes his head. “You’re fine.”

Kris turns to look at Adam. “See? Now that the medical professional has spoken, and you’ve forced me here, mind showing me where I’m staying?”

Everyone, with the exception of Brad and Allison who are hovering just out of sight, has scattered to parts unknown . Kris isn’t even going to ask where or what they might be up to. He looks over at Adam, raising an eyebrow.

Adam sighs heavily. “This way, baby.”

 

 

The room is ridiculous.

He can’t even call it a room. It’s more a suite. Or a house magically built into the floor.

Kris and his family had been visiting this area for years and he didn’t even _know_ that this hotel had something so… huge. And decadent.

There are fires burning in both the living room and the sitting room fireplaces. (He has no idea what the difference between the two rooms is, really.) It’s warm and cozy, everything done in light browns, greens. The entertainment center has a huge plasma TV with the works. He blinks at Tommy, Monte and Cassidy, sprawled over the furniture, watching what looks like some cooking show.

Alisan is lounging on a long-backed chair that Kris doesn’t know the name of, flipping through a magazine. She glances up and grins his way, winking when he smiles back.

There are noises coming from what he thinks is probably the kitchen. He figures Sasha must be in there with Ronnie, and from the smells wafting out the door, they are cooking up something.

Brad and Allison plop down on the empty loveseat, immediately digging into the popcorn that Tommy hands them. He has no idea where Cam went but he figures she might be in one of the three bedrooms he assumes are behind the closed doors around him.

He feels Adam’s hands on his back, pushing him gently in the direction of one of the doors that open up into the living room. They step through and all the noise is muffled to a quiet murmur of voices and sounds when the door shuts behind them. Kris closes his eyes and breathes deeply.

God knows he loves every single one of those people, but he is too tired to deal with it all. He glances around the room, seeing Adam’s luggage sitting in one corner, clothes spilling out and to the floor.

His duffel bag has been brought up, he assumes while he was being checked over, and sits neatly on the bed.

He blinks then turns to Adam.

“Um. Are we…?”

Adam stops rummaging through his bag and looks up, smiling softly. “What?”

They are sharing a room.

“Are we all staying here? In the suite, I mean?”

Adam gives him an apologetic look. “It’s all they had left when we got here. It’s only for a few days.”

“And we’re a sharing a room?”

Adam nods, biting his lip, something close to hurt crossing his face. “We can trade--”

Kris shakes his head, waves at Adam. “No. It’s fine. Of course. I just--” He glances at the bed and cuts off whatever he’d been about to say. It doesn’t matter. He’s shared a room with Adam before, several times actually, and they’d managed to sleep in the same bed without anything happening.

Just because he’s crazy in love with Adam, can barely keep his hands to himself when Adam is within his reach, has hormones raging through his system making Kris want him so much it physically hurts, and he had ended up sleeping with him the last time they had shared a bed, doesn’t mean he can’t control himself _this_ time.

Adam’s staring at him when he glances up, eyes dark and heated, making Kris shudder quietly, something hot unfurling in his stomach, making it hard to breathe.

He is _so_ screwed.

 

 

It was all about timing, really. (That’s something that everyone was always telling him. That he needed to learn _when_ to do something.)

The truth is that Kris should have waited.

When he’d gotten the call from Brad informing him that Adam and Preston had ended things (“and baby, it was _ugly_ , let me tell you“), what Kris _should_ have done was call Adam on the phone. Listen to him from a safe distance where he couldn’t see his face, wouldn’t be able to touch him but could still _be_ there in some form. That would have the best course of action right then.

What he _did_ was completely different.

He’d barely hung up with Brad before he was in his car on his way to Adam’s, a bottle of tequila in a brown bag in the backseat, take out from Pinto Thai (because he was pretty sure Adam hadn’t eaten all day, drinking on empty stomachs would end with terrible hangovers, and he wanted to avoid as much damage as he could), and a gallon of Rocky Road.

Adam would complain but Kris figured he’d eat it anyway.

He’d let himself in with the spare key Adam had given him (“I don’t want to have to wake up to let you in at your disgusting, early morning visiting hours, okay?”), stepped through the door and followed the sound of the television. Adam sat on the couch, head leaning on the arm, body splayed out on it. He turned to look at Kris, greeting him with a sad smile, and it was all Kris could do not to drop everything, crawl onto the couch and pull Adam into his arms.

He fed Adam, made him get up and move to his room because if they were going to pass out it was not going to be on the couch. When they were comfortable on Adam’s ridiculous eight hundred thread count sheets, Kris cracked open the tequila bottle and poured them shots from the glasses he’d grabbed in the kitchen. The liquid burned on the way down. Kris heard Adam hiss as he swallowed his, and then proceeded to pour another one.

He doesn’t remember how long they went on for. Adam talked about how he’d known it wasn’t supposed to last forever but he thought he’d get more time with Preston. That he thought this time he’d be able to keep his happiness for a lot longer. He talked about all the moments where he thought he was in love again. Kris pushed down on the ugly emotion that wanted to rear its stupid green head. He was here for Adam. Like Adam had been for him after Katy. So he patted Adam’s head as he talked, running his fingers through the dark strands and pretending the warmth he felt was the tequila.

“It’s like-- like I’m supposed to be alone forever,” Adam had moaned, turning his head to look at Kris with big blue eyes, damp with tears.

Kris scowled at him. (Or what could pass for scowling when he didn’t have full control over his facial muscles.) “That’s-- Don’t be stupid, Lambert. You aren’t alone, Adam.”

Adam’s eyebrows went up.

“You’ve got Leila and Eber, Neil and Brad, Cassidy, and a whole bunch of us. You are not alone, baby.”

Those eyes widened, as surprised as Kris was at the words, and stared right at him. After a long moment Adam breathed out a quiet, “Do I have you, Kristopher?”

And oh, Kris was only human, okay? And a little drunk. (Really drunk, so his normal _this a bad idea, don’t do it_ warning system was in the off position.)

Kris leaned in and kissed Adam, hot and wet, deep, pressing his lips against Adam’s until they gave way and he slipped his way inside. It took Adam a moment to catch up, probably too shocked at first, Kris was never sure, but then he moaned and opened his mouth, caught Kris’ lip between his and rolled them over.

He doesn’t remember everything.

There was warmth pushing him down, Adam’s skin on his tongue, Adam’s hands on Kris’ hips, holding him still while he wrapped his mouth around Kris, making him arch up, dragging sounds out of Kris he’d never made, growls and pleading, promises whispered that he'd kept hidden inside. They kissed until Kris couldn’t breathe, until he was forced to gulp in air, Adam’s face resting against his neck, licking and sucking, fingers finding their way into Kris, breaching the fuzzy happiness with pain, making him just a little sharper and then Adam was inside, pushing and stroking, muttering words Kris couldn’t recall but he knew had been said, felt it in his bones and his skin.

When he woke up, Kris had realized pretty instantly what had happened and he’d tried to hide his smile in the pillow.

It wasn’t how he would have wanted to… but now he could tell Adam, now he knew Adam wanted him. That was all he needed. He could wait for the rest.

He turned to find Adam sitting up in bed, leaning against the headboard, and before he could speak, he caught the devastated look on Adam’s face, the way his mouth tightened when he realized Kris was looking at him.

“Kris-- I shouldn’t-- I’m sorry.”

He’d been pretty sure nothing would have felt as horrible as his marriage ending.

Kris seemed to be wrong on a lot of things.

Adam was talking about having taken advantage of him, how he didn’t want to lose Kris because he was his best friend and if he couldn’t have that he wasn’t sure what to do, saying that Kris deserved more than Adam could give. That he knew it had been the drinks and nothing meant anything.

Blah. Blah. Blah.

He’s not sure why Adam kept talking while Kris’ heart broke at his feet.

Kris doesn’t remember any of what Adam was saying. He nodded when he thought it was appropriate, finding his clothes strewn on the floor, getting dressed. And when he was done, he’d looked at Adam, wrecked and scared and so sad that Kris’ already broken heart shattered just that little bit more.

“Hey.” He’d reached for Adam’s hands. “We’ll be okay.” It was a promise he had meant to keep. Not giving Adam a chance to say anything else, he’d hugged him, then run out of the house like it was on fire.

Getting past that night wasn’t easy but Kris tried. He needed Adam in his life even if it wasn’t the way Kris wished it could be.

He couldn’t stop loving Adam, that’s not how Kris was built, but he knew he could find a way to live with it. To keep Adam and just deal. He took a week off to let himself mourn a little. Hung out with Cale (who brought beer Kris _did not drink,_ thank you, he learned his lesson), wrote some really bad lovelorn music that will _never_ see the light of day (“Seriously, man, these are like songs to make you jump off a building”), and eventually he could breathe enough to go outside.

He waited another week to call Adam.

The relief in his voice made Kris feel better, and it was a little awkward but they pushed past it, making a tentative plan for lunch when Adam got back from his two month-long European tour.

It wasn’t going to be easy but Kris thought he could do it. He could get past that night, pretend it didn’t happen.

Six weeks later, after three days of non-stop nausea and vomiting, he went to the doctor (his mother was worried enough to make the appointment). He stared, unblinking when she looked up from her papers and said cheerfully, “Congratulations, Kris. You’re going to have a baby.”

Yeah. Timing.

Worst _ever_.

 

 

Kris wakes up slowly, stretching his legs and arms to shake off the remnants of grogginess that he feels so much more deeply these days. He rolls onto his back, eyes the messed up blankets on the other side of the bed, happiness rolling out from his chest to his toes. When he lays a palm down on the bed, it’s still slightly warm and Kris buries his face in the sheet, breathes deep.

Adam must have taken a nap as well, Kris thinks. He’d noticed the dark circles under Adam’s eyes, the worry that’s constantly there. He hates seeing that look on Adam, especially knowing it’s his fault.

He pushes up off the bed, heading for the bathroom, which is a room he’s becoming way more familiar with than he ever wanted to be. He takes care of his full bladder before splashing some cold water on his face, wiping a towel over it before taking a minute to look at his own reflection.

He doesn’t think he looks any different than he did before. Same brown eyes, same ridiculous hair that won’t stand down (Charles calls it _fluffy_ ), same face that’s just this side of not so bad. He thinks Scarlett is losing her mind with her talk of his “glow.” His face looks rounder, kind of like it did when he was in high school, but otherwise it’s still just him: Kris.

He rubs one hand over his slightly swelled stomach and sighs. “Let’s hope you look more like your Daddy and not your Papa, kiddo.” He breaks out into a smile at the thought of a little girl with red hair and blue eyes. (Adam asked him why he was convinced they were having a girl but Kris didn’t know how to answer, and he still doesn’t _know_ , it’s just a feeling he has.)

The light coming in through the windows is waning and Kris looks over at the bedside table, the digital clock blinking two-oh-seven at him. He guesses the storm is probably still in full force if it looks so dark at this time of the afternoon. That bit of sleep has him completely awake, energy humming under his skin, and he thinks he can write the rest of that song now.

Kris leaves the bedroom, stepping into the suite and pausing as he stares at the huddles of people on various couches. Monte is splayed out across one end of the L-shaped sofa with Sasha on the other. Ronnie’s watching the television from the floor and glances up with a quick smile at Kris before going back to it. Brad and Cassidy are nowhere to be seen. He has no idea where everyone else is but the other two bedroom doors are closed so he doesn’t think about it too hard.

Tommy and Allison are cuddled together on the loveseat, her head lolling on his shoulder as she sleeps. He grins at Tommy when he raises a hand over his head, wiggles his fingers in a wave at Kris. Kris mouths _“Adam?”_ and Tommy points to the other end of the room. He follows his finger and smiles softly at Adam curled up in the chaise he’d seen Alisan sitting in earlier.

Kris wonders why he got up from their-- _the_ bed to come sleep out here but he pushes the thought away. He grabs a blanket hanging from the back of the couch and walks to Adam, pausing to watch him sleep. The worry lines are smoothed down on his face, his mouth is soft and Kris wants to brush his lips over it to see if it feels that way.

It surprises Kris how young Adam looks in sleep. Like all the stress just washes away and leaves him looking like he always should: peaceful and happy.

Not that Kris makes it a habit to watch Adam sleep. That’s creepy and way too stalkerish and he’s not that.

He’s _not._

He glances behind to see Tommy watching him, smirk on his face, and Kris rolls his eyes, turning back to Adam. He covers him with the blanket. Adam snuffles, moves into the warmth of the covers then falls still again. Kris lets the breath he was holding out quietly, brushes one hand to push back the hair falling over Adam’s forehead and then moves to the door.

Kris makes some hand gestures at Tommy (he’s sure Brad would appreciate the pun in there) and waits until Tommy nods when he understands Kris’ _“I love you guys but I need to get some space”_ meaning behind them. Ronnie gets up to follow, pausing when Kris shakes his head. He looks meaningfully back at Adam’s sleeping form, then turns pleading eyes toward Kris.

Kris wants to protest, but he knows Ronnie isn’t actually wrong. If Adam wakes up and finds out that Kris left alone…

He nods and Ronnie’s face lights up with relief. They move quietly out into the hall and then he turns to look at Kris in question.

“I thought I saw a piano somewhere in the lobby…” He lets the sentence trail away but Ronnie smiles and nods. “Okay. That’s where we’re heading.”

 

 

Writing has always been a way for Kris to express himself when he can’t find the words for what he wants to say to someone or about something. He’s not the type that can do that on the spot, when something is happening. But give him some time, paper and a pen, his guitar or a piano and the words manage to appear.

Sometimes the process is faster than others.

He stares down at the scribbles on the paper he’s laid down on the flat surface of the piano, frowning as he makes a correction. The song has been in his head for weeks. He’s been humming the tune for a while, and he’d been working on it in the cabin but it hadn’t been quite right. He’d realized at some point between being rescued and waking up from his nap that it needed to be written for the piano.

The melody feels right when he pushes down on the keys.

Ronnie is sitting near the back of the private room, reading when Kris isn’t playing, but otherwise paying attention to the song, bopping his head. It’s nice to have an audience, one as appreciative as Ronnie can be.

The door swings open and Kris stops playing, heart thumping a little faster when he hears the sound of heavy boot heels on the carpeted floor. Looking up, his stomach drops just a little at seeing that it’s Brad walking his way over to him. He tries for a bright smile but it doesn’t work.

“He sent me down to make sure you were okay. Said he thinks you needed a little time away from him.”

Kris nods but frowns down at his hands paused over the white and black keys. That’s actually the opposite of what he really wants. He wants Adam. He wants Adam to want him back. He’d like to wake up next to Adam every day. Go through this whole experience as two people who need each other. He wants to build a life for them and their daughter that is based on love, not obligation.

“Oh, Kris.”

He doesn’t know when the tears started falling but he bows his head, tries to keep them in. He really hates this part of the pregnancy. His emotions flying all over the place.

Kris is the _non_ -crier in this family, for gosh sakes.

Brad’s warm hand curls around his neck and Kris leans into it, shifts when Brad leans his head on Kris’ shoulder. They stay that way for several long minutes, breathing in and out in rhythm, that and the sound of Ronnie flipping pages in his book the only noise in the room.

Brad sighs, pulls his head up and then leans his chin down on Kris’ shoulder, guiding his head to look at him.

Kris blinks back wetness to stare at him.

“Hormones are a bitch, baby.”

Kris snorts a laugh, pulls away from Brad and glances over at Ronnie, who is looking at them with a kind smile. Kris really likes Ronnie.

He starts to say something else when Brad straightens up, gives Kris a serious look before turning to Ronnie.

“Rockin’ Ron, you think you can leave me and The Littlest Idol alone? I promise to bring him back to the room relatively in one piece.”

Ronnie looks at Kris, who nods at him, then gathers his book and walks out without another word. Not that Ronnie ever really says anything, anyway.

“I do love the silent type,” Brad murmurs appreciatively as the door closes behind Ronnie. He turns to look at Kris, levels that scarily serious gaze at him again and leans in, grabbing Kris’ hand and leading them out.

“You and me, Kristopher, are about to have a long overdue chat.”

Kris doesn’t think suddenly feeling deathly afraid is an over-reaction at all.

 

 

Brad was the first person Kris told about the baby.

He didn’t even mean to, really. Leaving the doctor’s office, he was too shocked to know what to do next. He briefly thought of calling his mom, but that wasn’t a conversation he was prepared to have. (Kris was sure that the first thing his mother would do was call Leila and talk about the fact they were going to be grandmothers and that would lead to Adam finding out and he _really_ wasn’t ready for that _at all_ yet.)

Charles didn’t pick up when Kris called him, so he left a vague message saying he needed to talk to him about something important. He tried Cale next and breathed in when the call was picked up. He needed a face-to-face conversation, so when Cale said he was hanging at Brad’s, after Kris’ initial double take because when the hell did they become friends, he asked him to wait.

Kris somehow managed to not kill himself or his unborn child ( _holy crap_ ) on the way over to Brad’s. He was reminding himself to take a few deep breaths to keep from throwing up all over Brad’s front door when it opened and he was looking into Brad’s grinning face.

“I’m having Adam’s baby.”

The words tumbled out before he could stop them and Kris would have laughed, if he could have, at the way Brad’s eyes bugged out and his mouth dropped open. He hadn’t meant to say anything but he just needed… he needed to tell someone.

Brad had still been standing at the door, stupefied, when Cale had appeared behind him. He’d looked back and forth between them, settling his calm gaze on Kris.

Kris’ voice shook as he said it again. “I’m having a baby. It’s Adam’s.” He covered his face and mumbled an, “Oh god,” before he felt Cale pull him inside.

He doesn’t remember a lot of details after his confession. Brad brought him tea and a blanket. Cale rubbed his shoulders while Brad fetched a paper bag when Kris began to have a panic attack. They didn’t ask a lot of questions, which he was grateful for even though he knew they were having a silent conversation over his head the entire time.

Brad had insisted that he stay with him for the night. Cale had agreed and Kris had been too tired and scared to say no.

One night turned into two turned into a week and then suddenly a month had passed with Kris living in Brad’s spare room.

Brad’s excuse was that Kris’ apartment wasn’t fit for him, let alone him and the baby he hadn’t even had yet, and that if something happened -- which, okay, he wasn’t anywhere near needing to worry about the big day or anything, _that_ much Kris knew, but still -- Kris was going to need someone there for him.

“Until you know, Adam gets back home. Then he’ll want to take care of you and I won’t be standing in his way. I like every part of my body where it is.”

Kris had run away from that conversation and every other Brad tried to start with him about _what_ he was going to tell Adam, _when_ was he going to tell Adam, _how_ was he going to tell Adam.

And his, “I love you, baby boy, I do, but if you _even_ think about keeping this from him, I will hurt you.”

He’d glared at Brad because _of course_ he was going to tell Adam.

“When?”

“After he gets back from the tour.”

Brad raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms, pursing his lips at Kris.

“He’s a couple of thousand miles away, Brad, okay? I just-- This isn’t something I can tell him over the phone or in an email, you know? The _‘hey, remember how we got drunk and slept together that one time without protection, well, surprise! I’m having your kid’_ conversation is a face-to-face thing.”

That had been enough to keep Brad from pressuring Kris into telling Adam right away, or telling anyone else either. Their group was great but secrets never stayed that way with them.

(Cale had judged him quietly for being a coward but supported him nonetheless. Kris really loved his friends, sometimes.)

So, for a month he avoided all of Adam’s calls, texts and emails, mostly because he knew that if he actually had any contact with Adam, he’d tell, and that-- he wasn’t ready.

Adam’s messages had gotten increasingly more frantic, worried, and at the end, really, really angry.

Kris was about to break down and talk to him.

Then the morning sickness had gotten worse and by the time Adam _was_ home, Kris was not fit for human interaction. His hormones were all over the place, making him go from sad to angry to hyper in the blink of an eye ( _“You are so lucky that you’ve got a kid in there, Allen.”_ ) and it was all that he could do to stay out of everyone’s way until it passed.

Which it did, but by that time he’d been avoiding Adam for a couple of months and he had no idea how to tell him. Brad suggested that Kris take him out to dinner and just tell him already. ( _“That kid is making you a drama queen, Kristopher.“_ )

He waited until he was sure Adam was in the studio (bless Tommy and his addiction to tweeting) and called Adam’s phone. He left him a quick voicemail asking him if he was free for dinner the next night.

Less than an hour later, Kris’ phone rang and before he could even say hello, he heard Adam’s terse, “Where are you?”

Kris blinked and said, “I’m at Brad’s right-” and then the line went dead. He tried Adam back but it went straight to voicemail.

Fifteen minutes later, there was a knock on the door and Kris stared at it for almost a full minute until the knocking turned into pounding and Adam’s, “Open the fucking door, Kristopher, or I swear I will break it down,” had him running to open the door.

Adam looked tired, dark circles under his eyes, his mouth a hard, thin line when he looked at Kris. He pushed past and started ranting at Kris about how he couldn’t take Kris shutting him out, that he hadn’t meant to drive him away, that their friendship was too important to do that and Kris owed him more than that and, “If you’re going to let me go then the least you can do is tell me to my face, Allen.”

Kris shook his head. “That’s not-- Adam, I just --”

“What, Kris? What is your explanation or excuse or whatever for not talking to me for two months? _Two months!_ ”

Kris really hoped this kid had his temperament because he was pretty sure he couldn’t take two Adams for the rest of his life, no matter how much he may love them.

“I swear, Adam, I wasn’t trying to avoid-- well, okay I was, but not because of the reasons you think.” Which, while not entirely true, wasn’t a lie either. But Adam narrowed his eyes at him, anyway.

“Why haven’t you been at home?”

Kris opened his mouth to answer but Adam plunged ahead with his rant. “When I got back I waited for hours for you to come home and you never did. And I know you're not living there right now. So, where are you sleeping these days, Kristopher?”

The tone didn’t go over very well with Kris and he glared at Adam. “That’s not really any--”

“The hell it isn’t!” Adam’s face was turning red, his hands clenched into fists, and it was getting out of hand.

Kris took a deep breath. “I’ve been here. At Brad’s.”

That deflated Adam some, confusion warring with the anger, and Kris rubbed his forehead where he could feel a headache starting to form. The plan had been to tell Adam calmly and rationally, not in some shouting match.

“Why are-- I don’t understand this, Kris.”

Kris nodded, met Adam’s stare and sighed. “I just-- Brad didn’t want me to be alone in case-- He worries a lot, I think.”

And suddenly Adam was in his space, tilting his face up, eyes searching Kris’, worry replacing the anger. “Did something happen? Were you-- did someone try to hurt you?” His hands were all over Kris, down his arms, across his back, stilling at Kris’ waist, and it was all Kris could do to pull back and away. He needed to think clearly.

“No no no. That’s not it. I’m-- oh, god, I don’t even know how to tell you this.”

Adam was standing in the same place, hands outstretched toward Kris, but his face seemed to go paler. “Are you sick?”

His voice caught in his throat and Kris let out a puff of air, half-sob, half-laugh, because of course Adam would think that.

He took a step closer, grabbing Kris’ wrist like he was afraid Kris would run away from him again. “Kris, tell me, _please_.”

Kris opened and closed his mouth a few times until Adam squeezed his hand hard, and then he shut his eyes, swallowed, speaking calmly.

“I’m-- we’re having a baby, Adam.”

He opened his eyes and found Adam’s shocked blue ones staring back at him.

Kris inhaled and cleared his throat, repeating it because he needed Adam to know this was real, because _he_ needed to know it was real.

“We’re having a baby.”

 

 

Kris follows Brad out to the lobby, his gaze falling on Brad’s face as they walk toward one of the lounges -- the one that overlooked the gardens. Kris’ stomach drops at the almost grim set to Brad’s mouth. He’s never seen that look before, and he’s been privy in the last few months to _a lot_ of Brad’s moods. They step quietly into the room, which is, thankfully, empty. Brad stands in front of the floor to ceiling windows.

It’s a wall of white now, nothing more than the raging storm can be seen, and Kris stops to stare at the brightness of nothing, wishes that maybe it would stop so that they could all go home.

“When Adam and I became friends again after…” Brad waves his hand widely to indicate everything he and Adam were to each other once, and Kris understands what he means, doesn’t need it explained any further. He thinks it’s the way he and Katy refer to each other.

He waits for Brad to continue.

“I made myself a promise.” He turns to look at Kris, gives him a half-smile and shrugs. “I wasn’t going to get involved in his love life.”

Kris snorts and Brad grins at him.

“Right? Like, what the fuck was I thinking?” He motions to the couch, sitting down, his legs stretched out in front of him.

Kris plops down next to him, lets Brad put his feet on his lap, and just stares at him until he talks.

“So, that was a stupid plan, because no matter what, Adam is my friend, always will be. It was hard at first, watching him with other people. I mean, I liked Drake and that dancer, Paul. They were nice.”

Kris raises an eyebrow. “Then there was Sauli.”

Brad grits his teeth. “Then there was Sauli. We don’t need to talk about that one.”

Kris had liked Sauli, actually, but Brad… Brad’s hate for him was a thing of epic proportions, and those months had been pretty hard on everyone. Kris had seen very little of Brad around that time.

“Then Robert, right?”

Kris nods because he hadn’t been fond of Robert but he’d never said a word.

“Who you hated.”

Kris looks up, eyes wide, and Brad gives him a knowing look. “Oh come on, baby. I know you pretty well. In case you don’t know this, your poker face is for shit, okay?”

It’s true.

“And finally, Preston, who I actually thought was nice but not long for Adam’s world. He was a little too… demanding.”

That hadn’t really been Kris’ experience with him. Preston had seemed good for Adam. Supportive, calm, not part of the usual crowd…

Brad smirks, shakes his head. “Oh, he wasn’t at first. But then he met you, and well, the boy was perceptive enough to know what you and Adam seem so intent on ignoring.”

Kris raises an eyebrow, hand falling on Brad’s knee. “And that would be?”

“That you two are so ridiculously in love, actual fucking hearts appear over your heads when you’re in the same room.” Brad rolls his eyes as he says this.

He squeezes Brad's knee hard because that wasn’t completely correct. “I don’t think-- Adam--”

“If you say Adam isn’t in love with you, Kristopher, I am going to end you.”

Kris clamps his mouth shut, looks away and down, doesn’t want Brad to see that in his eyes.

There’s a loud, frustrated sound coming from Brad, and then he’s up, pacing in front of Kris.

“Jesus fucking Christ. You two are the stupidest men I have ever met, and I’ve met plenty of stupid men, all right? I mean, remember Howard? Who thought the Green Party was a shindig where we all wore green? Yeah. Stupider than _that_ , Kristopher.”

Kris wants to laugh a little, because Howard had been really just not bright, bless his soul, but the truth behind what Brad is saying is too scary for him to focus on anything else.

Brad sighs, rubbing one hand over his head, and Kris has rarely seen him this pissed off. “I swear, you better pray this kid gets Neil’s intelligence gene or whatever, because with the DNA she has, I worry for her.”

His chest feels tight with all these emotions he keeps bottled inside. What he feels for Adam… it’s not something he can describe. It’s _more_ than anything has ever been in his life. He wants everything with Adam. Everything. And if he looks closely enough, if he lets himself think about it, he knows that Adam might want the same.

But then he can’t-- he can’t even begin to believe that he’s good enough. That someone that beautiful, that _completely_ everything he ever wanted would be satisfied with him. Brad needs to stop saying it like it’s a fact. Adam doesn’t love him the way Kris wants. He can’t. It’s an argument he’s had with Allison and Scarlett and apparently one he’s now going to have with Brad.

“I’m just-- I don’t think he feels-- He can‘t love me, Brad. I‘m just… me. It‘s not-- I can‘t be want he wants.”

Brad narrows his eyes. “To quote you, Kris, that’s bullcrap.”

Kris does smile this time and glances up to see Brad giving him the same amused _you are so lucky I think you’re cute_ look he gives Adam and Cassidy all the time. He seems to think about something for a minute, then sits back down, staring at his hands.

“I never thought-- I loved Adam and when we broke up-- that was hard. But, you’re the proof that it was right.” He doesn’t look at Kris, who is now staring at him. “I’ve always liked most of Adam’s boyfriends, with one or two exceptions, but none of them were my friend.” Brad smiles quickly, eyes still focused on the ground. “I love you a little bit, okay, Kris. I want you to be happy just as much as I want Adam to be happy, so.”

He meets Kris’ eyes finally.

“I’m going to tell you something that I promised Adam I wouldn’t, because-- well, because he’s an idiot.” He keeps their gazes locked. “ _You_ make him happy. And I never see you look happier than with him.” He reaches out and pats Kris’ stomach, rubs it a little. “This? Honey, this was just fate making its point.”

Kris swallows, that tightness making it almost impossible to breathe.

Brad pauses and then asks, quietly, “Why do you think Preston and Adam broke up?”

The change in topic makes Kris blink, and when Brad just stares waiting for an actual answer, Kris takes a deep breath, shakes his head. “I-- I don’t know. Adam never told me. I just figured…”

“You figured it was Preston, right?”

Kris nods. That was what Adam had said. At least, Kris is pretty sure it was. His brow furrows at the laugh Brad gives.

“Of course he let you-- Honestly, why the hell you love that moron like you do, I just don’t even.” Brad shakes his head and then looks straight at Kris.

Kris is about to defend Adam because, um, hey, that’s the love of his life Brad is talking about, but then Brad’s next words make his brain stop.

“Adam broke it off with Preston because he wanted Adam to stop-- well, being in love with you was really what he meant, but he just asked that Adam put some distance between you two.”

Kris scowls. “He wanted him to stop being my friend?”

He takes back every nice thing he ever said about that jackass.

Brad shakes his head. “No. Actually, not even close. He just wanted Adam to pay less attention to you.” Brad shrugs. “Adam couldn’t do that, didn’t want to, so Preston made him choose.”

Oh… _Oh_.

Wait…

That can’t be.

“Adam chose me?”

Brad rolls his eyes and Kris thinks he may end up with them stuck in that position before this conversation ends. “Of course he chose you… Kris, he loves you. _You._ Like, I have never seen him this stupid. This includes when we were together and that’s saying something.” Brad pats Kris’ face gently and laughs. “He’s loved you since, like, day one, I think.”

The words flow over Kris, seep into his bones, and he feels a burst of joy so deep that he can’t think. He has to remember to breathe. His chest loosens and all those things he’s kept inside for so long, that dam he put up breaks and he feels warm all over.

Adam chose _him_.

“Why-- why didn’t he just tell me?”

“Because, like you, he’s a moron and thinks all this is because of the baby. And I’m just-- seriously, fuck that noise. You’re both miserable and I just, I can’t take the miserable looks on your faces and how you’re both so ridiculous when you watch each other. I can’t take it anymore.” Brad stands up, pulls Kris to his feet then gently shoves him toward the door. “Now that you know, just go and put us all out of our misery, Kris. Really. Go. Tell him. Grow a pair, baby.”

If Brad is right… then Adam _wanted_ him. It wasn’t just because Kris had been there. Or because they were drunk and made a mistake.

This changes… everything.

Happiness and relief bloom in his heart, make him grin widely. He leans in to kiss Brad on the forehead. “You’re going to be the best fucking godfather. Ever.”

Brad blows out a loud breath. “You know it.” He shoves at Kris, points to the door. “Now go and fix this shit already.”

Kris keeps grinning as he walks out the door.

He’s going to owe Brad big.

 

 

Kris wasn't sure how Adam was going to react. Not really.

That's to say, he knew that Adam wasn’t going to hate him or anything. (Deep inside, he was afraid Adam wouldn't believe him, and for Kris, well, that was pretty much worse than anything else. Ever.)

He expected a little confusion, maybe a second of anger, even fear.

So when Adam reacted with big eyes and a gaping mouth (and Kris was so ignoring his hormones there, _okay,_ he should’ve gotten an effing _award!_ ) then lapsed into a full hour of complete silence, Kris had no idea what to do.

He waited with Adam, sitting on the other end of the couch while Adam processed, stood up, left the room, then came back to sit again.

By the time Adam finally spoke to him, Kris was contemplating calling Leila and telling her everything. Even the fear of what his own mother would do to him for her not being the first (or, okay, _fourth_ ) person he told wouldn't stop him if he needed to do that.

“We're having a baby.”

Adam's voice was tinged with amazement and, Kris thought, more than a bit of happiness, which was good. Really good.

He nodded. “Yes.”

“Is that why you stopped talking to me?” His voice held a tremor of anger and Kris wondered which one of them was the moodier one.

“I didn't stop talking to you.”

Adam raised an eyebrow. “You totally did, Kris.”

Okay.

Yeah.

Maybe.

“I didn't know what to say. Adam, it's not like you asked for this, and I just-- I don't want you to feel obligated. We made a mistake.”

Adam's face did a strange sort of dance, a multitude of emotions crossing it before it went almost blank. “I didn't mean to sleep with you like that.”

It was a statement Kris was prepared to hear but it still stung.

He shrugged, pretended it didn't matter. “You were hurting. We were… not ourselves. It's not like we're the first to ever do that.”

Adam looked away. “Yeah.”

There was a silence that Kris hated and he wished for the awkwardness, the uncomfortable moment to pass, and that his best friend would show up again. The truth was that he wanted Adam to love him. He did.

But he _needed_ Adam to be his friend right then more than anything else.

He glanced up and met Adam's probing gaze. It flicked between Kris' face and his stomach.

“You're having my kid?”

Kris narrowed his eyes at Adam. “I think we just established that, Adam, and if you even think of asking me if I'm sure it's yours...”

Adam looked shocked. “I wouldn't--”

“Good.”

He glanced back up at Adam and saw the bemused expression Adam was trying to hide, received a soft, sweet smile curving on Adam's mouth.

“What?”

“You're cute when you're hormonal.”

Kris hid his face in his hands and groaned.

And, in the end, that was all there was to it.

 

 

He'd never seen Adam quite the way he was once he knew he was going to be a dad. His excitement was contagious, even when Kris was still in the middle of his morning sickness and headaches and general pregnancy pains.

Adam made all those things easier, tolerable.

Adam would sit with Kris when he was saying hello again to his dinner and bring him a glass of water to wash out his mouth when he was done. He’d take a moment to massage Kris' temples and bring him tea ( _“Non-caffeinated, don't give me that look, Kris.”_ ) to soothe his headaches. He’d watch television while Kris napped on the couch, settling Kris' feet on his lap, occasionally rubbing them because he read somewhere that you're supposed to do that.

Kris understood that Adam was only trying to help, to be there for him and the baby. (Because that's who Adam is. And Kris loves him so much that it's almost painful.)

So every time Adam would touch him, Kris wanted to die a little. It was like having everything he wanted right there in front of him. But he couldn't take it.

“Sure, when my feet actually hurt. Which they don't yet.”

Adam ignored him, grabbed his other foot and started in on it, thumbs digging into the flesh. Kris held in the moan that wanted to escape, his head falling back as he closed his eyes. The fingers working over his skin sent ripples of energy humming through his limbs and Kris shivered despite his best efforts. Adam's hands paused for a moment but then continued on like he hadn't noticed anything.

Kris could have kissed him for that. Well, Kris could have kissed him for anything, everything really, but that day, especially for that.

He swallowed back another noise when Adam's fingers grasped onto his ankle, rubbing soft circles there.

“Baby?”

Adam had taken to calling him that more and more often. Kris wasn't going to complain about it. Not like he _disliked_ it or anything.

“Hmm?”

“I wanted to talk to you about living at Brad's.”

Kris opened his eyes and knew without Adam saying anything what this was about. “I'm fine there.”

And that was the beginning of Adam's relentless campaign to get Kris to change his mind.

He offered to build him a separate studio.

“Does it bother you that I'm using yours?”

Adam looked confused. “No, of course not, baby.”

Kris shrugged. “Then, no. I like being in the same place you create. Think it helps my mojo.” And when he looked up to grin at Adam, he pretended not to see the hungry look on Adam's face. It was too much to take in, to handle.

He gave Kris free rein to decorate.

Which was met with Kris laughing so hard he fell off the couch and Adam almost had a panic attack. Kris threw a pillow at his head.

He even brought Kris' mama in on the whole spiel.

“Kristopher, it's hard enough raising a child when you're married and have someone else to help take the burden.” Kris didn't miss the little _married_ barb anymore than he'd missed the dozens of others his mom had been dropping. She loved Adam and everyone else in his family. Somehow, Kris guessed, she had assumed they would be a part of each other’s once Kris had come out. He was pretty sure Leila and his mama were planning a wedding under the radar.

“Mama. Stop. I'm _not_ going to be doing this alone. Adam _will_ be there.”

“How is that going to work with you in one place and Adam in another?”

Kris didn't have an answer for that. He wasn't sure exactly how they were going to do this. He figured the baby would stay with Adam some nights and the others with Kris. Except it made his stomach twist to think of being away from her at all, so maybe that wouldn't work. Scarlett kindly pointed out that they couldn't do that until the baby was at least a few months old, anyway, and by then she'd be used to her surroundings. Changing them every other week wasn't a good idea, even Charles agreed with that. (“She's not like a pet, Kris.”)

He was proud of the look he managed to give him before stomping out of the room.

The solution, to Kris, was pretty simple.

“You want to buy the house next door?” Adam asked, staring down at the papers Kris handed him halfway through their dinner.

Kris nodded. “It's close enough…“ His voice trailed off at the look on Adam's face, a little heartbroken, a little resigned, and Kris just– He couldn't pretend it was okay to be selfish anymore. Because he was being that. Selfish. He was afraid of what he would do, being with Adam all the time, having him everywhere, and that was taking precedence over their daughter. Over Adam.

It's Adam's, “I just don't want to miss any more time,” that does it.

Kris sighed, took the papers out of Adam's hands and ripped them in half. “You know what? Forget I even brought it up. Is tomorrow okay for me to bring my things over?”

Adam's eyes were wide, his face schooled into cautious hope. “Wait. So. You're going to move in? Really?”

Kris nodded. “Really. I– I'm sorry I was– I don't want to be– It's complicated and I wasn't thinking about how you felt or what the baby needs. You're totally right. We need to do this together.” He pointed his finger at Adam. “But you need to realize that I'm not the nicest person to live with right now. I have mood swings and don't want to be anywhere near people half the time. I think Brad might be a little afraid of me. So keep that in mind, okay?” He looked over at Adam, saw the softness in Adam’s eyes and started to speak when Adam leaned over the table. Kris froze as Adam's lips pressed against his, warm, a little sweet from Adam's drink. The kiss was quick and over before it started, but Kris' mouth tingled for the rest of the night.

Kris moved in the next day and Adam proceeded to do everything in his power to make sure he didn't want to ever leave. Kris found it adorable (which really just says everything).

He sometimes wished it weren't so easy to be with Adam. It made him hope for more than he thought he could have, and that was worse than not having it at all. Adam looked at him like he was the best thing he'd ever seen and it stung just a tiny bit. Kris loved that Adam felt so deeply for him, but he wished it had more to do with him than the baby.

But it could have been worse, Kris thought. Adam could have rejected their baby (not that Kris ever thought he would have) and shut Kris out. Instead, he was excited and caring and Kris loved him even more for that.

He just needed to teach himself to want less.

 

 

Kris isn't sure what he's going to say to Adam. It might be good to just blurt it right out. Tell him everything he feels, how he wants to make this work with them, that he wants to be a real family, and that he's sorry it took this long for him to figure it all out.

The elevator seems to take forever, and when it finally opens on their floor, Kris can't help the smile that breaks on his face.

It's all going to be fine.

He enters the suite and pauses when he sees that everyone is getting ready to leave. He looks for Adam and frowns when he's nowhere in the room. His gaze falls on Tommy, who points a thumb toward the room that he and Adam are sharing, grinning at Kris as he does.

Kris laughs, shakes his head and walks inside the room. Adam is sitting on the edge of the bed, shoulders slumped forward, head bowed, but when he hears the door close, his head jerks up to look at Kris. His eyes brighten a little and he smiles widely, but Kris can see the effort behind it.

“Hey. How'd the writing go? Get what you needed?”

Kris nods as he moves closer, settling down next to Adam and running one hand through Adam's hair. He notes the surprise that crosses Adam's face and leans his chin to rest on Adam's shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Adam can't seem to speak for a long moment. Kris can feel the tension in his muscles and frowns at the terse, “I'm fine,” he gets in return. That's a total lie. He doesn't get why Adam is acting… And it hits Kris suddenly.

Adam is scared.

It's not like Kris can blame him. He's been keeping a wall between them because he didn't think– But now he knows and Adam is– That's not acceptable.

“Adam--”

The door opens and Cassidy sticks his head through, stopping to give Kris an apologetic look when he sees that he's interrupting.

“Sorry, guys. We're going to have some dinner. Did you want to come?”

Kris shakes his head, but before he can say anything Adam is standing up, nodding. “We'll be right there.” He looks down at Kris, tries to smile as he pulls Kris up. “You haven't eaten in a while.”

He wants to argue but it's the truth, he can feel his hunger, so he meets Adam's gaze and nods at him. “You're right.”

Adam's smile is genuine this time and Kris returns it, grabbing at Adam's hand and lacing their fingers together. That confusion (and what Kris understands is Adam attempting to push down hope, he recognizes that look) crosses Adam's face again. Kris doesn't let go of his hand as they walk out.

 

 

Dinner is always a loud affair when they're all together. Everyone entering and leaving several conversations at the table, so Kris knows that he can't talk with Adam even though he really needs to tell him, like two years ago, really, that he loves him. But a declaration at a crowded table with their loving but nosy friends isn't the way he wants to do this.

The problem is that Kris can see Adam shutting himself away. It's like his fear is winning out and whatever he sees on Kris' face is making him want to run. That doesn't reassure Kris much. He's been having a silent conversation with Brad's eyebrows for five minutes now.

One of them flicks up. ( _You tell him yet?_ )

Kris purses his lips and scrunches his nose. ( _No, he's being difficult._ )

The other eyebrow joins the first. ( _Tell him!_ )

Kris' mouth turns down. ( _What if you're wrong? I can't deal..._ )

Both eyebrows furrow and Brad glares. ( _Grow a pair, Kristopher, and just fucking say something!_ )

Brad's eyebrows are really bossy.

It's not like he hasn't been trying or anything. Since they sat down Kris has been glued to Adam. He leans against Adam's side, warm and content, matching the look Adam gives with his confident one. He slides one hand over Adam's thigh, makes him jump and drop his fork. Kris sighs, glances down at his half-eaten dinner and contemplates just going up to their room and waiting for Adam.

When Kris leans in to whisper in Adam's ear and he jerks away, Kris thinks that this is all a bad idea. Brad is wrong. Kris is making a fool of himself and scaring Adam at the same time.

He stares at Adam's wide eyes, blue barely visible, and what that means Kris isn't sure, but it's not a bad thing. It can't be. Brad is never wrong. Adam loves him. He can feel that in his gut now. He reaches for Adam's face…

The baby kicks hard, making Kris gasp and clutch at his stomach all at once.

His heart rises to his throat and he doesn't know what to do with the bubble of giddiness.

That’s the first time she's ever done that.

Everyone at the table stops talking except for Adam, who looks frantic and is asking Kris a million questions, but he can't hear him, rushing sound in his ears. Kris rubs his hand where he'd just felt their baby kick and laughs when she responds by doing it again.

Adam's freaking out and Kris turns to him, places his fingers on Adam's mouth to stop his rambling, then grabs Adam's hand, placing it over the spot where their daughter is apparently playing soccer with Kris' insides.

“Kris, what are– Oh my god.” He gapes at Kris when the baby kicks again. “Is that– is she–?“ There's another punt and Adam's eyes sparkle, his mouth working into a grin and Kris laughs again, grabs the back of his neck and presses their foreheads together.

“That's our baby girl saying hello.”

Adam's laugh is delighted and Kris can't help it, wants so much to kiss him that he doesn't care anymore whether it's scary or not. He brushes his mouth over Adam's, dropping quick kisses over his slack mouth, holding his breath until – _finally_ – Adam is kissing him back, hand clamping at the back of Kris’ head, tilting him to get a better angle. Kris grins into it, wraps his arms around Adam's neck and ignores the roar of applause he can hear at the table.

He wants to crawl inside Adam and tries to do just that, half-straddling him, but Adam's hands push him away gently and Kris pulls back, dazed, to look at him.

Adam groans when his eyes flick to Kris’ mouth, and Kris thinks he can understand, watching Adam lick at his own bruised, swollen lips. His hands sink deeper into Adam's hair, holding him when he wants to move away.

“Don't.”

He can see Adam struggle with it, leaning in to kiss the side of Kris' mouth, mumbling a fast, “Not right here, baby. Let's go upstairs.”

Upstairs, yes. Where there's a bed and privacy and Kris can do whatever he wants with Adam.

“Okay.”

He's up and pulling Adam away, making the table laugh at his desperation, but seriously, he's been wanting this forever. He's not wasting another second.

“We're um... gonna go... now.”

Brad is laughing so hard that he's almost choking and Kris meets his eyes, nods when he mouths _“Tell him,”_ and hauls Adam out of the dining room. The elevator takes forever, and when the doors close, Adam pushes Kris against the wall. Licks his way into Kris' mouth, hands working under his shirt, making Kris shiver when he pushes his face into Kris’ neck. He stops there, breathing deep, and Kris holds on, sinks his face into Adam's shoulder, tastes his way across the skin there.

The doors ping open and Kris extracts himself from Adam's arms, guides them to their suite, their steps slowing down.

It's like suddenly it's real and they both seem to realize that.

Kris blinks as Adam takes his hand, drags him to the bedroom, closing and locking the door behind them.

When he turns to Kris, he opens his mouth, then shuts it without saying anything.

Kris knows that this is on him.

“I love you.” He thinks about that for a second and expands on it because that's not the first time he's ever said that to Adam. “I mean, I'm _in_ love with you.”

Adam blinks, mutters a quiet “Oh god,” but Kris needs to say everything he's been wanting to.

“There's no specific moment that it happened. Nothing I can pinpoint to know when it started. One day it just was.”

He takes a few steps back, needing the distance to be able to think clearly. He doesn't want to mess this up.

“Sometimes I'm a little slow on the uptake and I didn't know until I-- well, until I knew. As soon as I realized it, I was going to tell you, but…“

Adam is staring at him, wide-eyed, chest rising and falling too fast, but he doesn't say anything. Kris takes that as a sign to go on.

“You had Preston. You were _happy_ with him and I just– I didn't think it was fair to pull up and say, _'Adam, dump your nice boyfriend and come be with me forever.'_ I'm not that guy, you know? But I hoped which, god, sounds so horrible when I say it, but it's the truth. Then it happened and I completely screwed it up--”

“You didn't screw it up.”

Kris shakes his head, can't meet Adam's eyes so he looks down at his feet, randomly thinks it's nice that he can still see them because Scarlett said he might not be able to soon, and this is the stupidest thing to be thinking about right at this moment.

“I did, Adam. You needed a friend and I–“

“That was on me. I was the one who didn't take it slowly, who jumped in because you were there and you were looking at me like I've wanted you to since I met you. We were drunk and I took advantage.”

Kris glances over at Adam, tries not to laugh because they are both so stupid. “So, you were what? Blaming yourself for what happened? Like I don't have my own mind?”

Adam raises an eyebrow, his own smile twitching the corners of his mouth. “And you were feeling guilty, even though we both wanted it and weren't hurting anyone?”

They stare at each other and then Adam starts laughing, bending over at the waist.

Kris runs his hands over his head, snorting out a quick, “Brad is right. We are the stupidest men alive.”

He feels Adam standing in front of him and works up the courage to look at him.

What he finds is Adam grinning stupidly at him, eyes a little wet, and Kris breathes out, too overcome to actually move.

“You're an idiot. No, seriously, Kristopher. You are.” Adam pulls him in, wrapping both hands around his waist, dropping a kiss on Kris' nose before locking eyes with him. “I love you. You love me. We're having a baby. Why the hell have you been pushing me away?”

Kris makes a face. “I haven't been pushing you away.” Adam opens his mouth and Kris continues. “I've been keeping you at arm’s length. There's a difference.”

Adam sighs heavily. “Fine. But why?”

“Because you freaked out the morning after we were together and I thought that you didn't feel the same way.”

Adam's eyebrows rise up. “Are you fucking kidding me? Kris, come on, I loved you long before I should have, okay? I want to be a family. You and our baby. That's all I want in this world.”

Kris hugs him, smiling into Adam's shoulder. “I do, too.”

“Good. Then, no more being stupid, right?”

Pulling back, Kris beams at Adam, watches his eyes darken, and pushes up to bring their mouths together. He tastes the sigh that escapes from Adam’s lips and his hands grip onto Adam's shirt. They're moving back towards the bed, and Kris makes a happy noise in the back of his throat. He lets go of Adam long enough to sit down and scoot back, grabbing for Adam to haul him in. He settles between Kris' legs, pressing down so that they're touching everywhere… chest, hips, knees.

Kris shudders under Adam, arches up into him and groans when their cocks rub together. He needs to get Adam naked, like, yesterday. He runs his hands under Adam's shirt–

He feels the kick and freezes at the same time Adam does. Kris sees it in Adam's eyes before he starts to pull back, and _the hell_ they're stopping now. He locks his legs around Adam's waist, not letting him move.

“Baby, I don't want to hurt her.”

Kris tightens his hold, rolling his eyes, brushing his hands through Adam's hair, curling them on his neck. “We're _not_ going to hurt her. You've read the same books I have, Adam. It's perfectly safe.”

But Adam has _that_ look on his face and Kris knows that he's not going to let this go.

“Okay. Fine.”

He pushes up and flips Adam on his back, sees the surprise and hunger on his face when Kris ends up straddling his hips. Adam lets Kris pull his shirt off and gasps when Kris' lips close around his nipple, sucking hard, tongue circling wetly.

“Fuck– _Kris_ \--“

Flames spark hot and wild under Kris' skin and he can't seem to stop, licks his way down Adam’s chest, noses over his stomach, pressing kisses on the way down. He works the button on Adam's jeans open, helps him wiggle out of them enough that Kris can easily pull out his cock. He mouths at it through Adam's underwear and smiles when Adam arches up, hands clutching the bedsheets. He likes this, having the power to make Adam speechless. Wants to always be here, wants to always be what Adam needs.

He rubs his face on Adam's thigh, mouths at the skin as he works his fingers on the band of Adam's underwear, pushes down and pauses to look at the jutting length of Adam's cock, head red and purple, leaking pre-cum. Kris licks at the drops, then down the shaft.

Adam writhes under his touch, moans Kris' name and it's… Kris can feel it in his chest, under his skin, and it makes his own cock harder. He needs to taste more of Adam, make up for all the lost time. He wraps his mouth over Adam, swallows as he moves down, slow and steady, keeps the pace languid. Adam's hands grip his head, pull some, and Kris moans.

He hasn't done this much but he pays attention to what makes Adam crazy, the sounds he lets out when Kris swirls his tongue over the head of his cock. He can feel Adam trembling, opens his eyes to watch Adam’s face as he breaks open, and it's stunning. Kris doesn't think he's ever seen anything so beautiful.

 

 

Kris sighs happily as Adam's fingers trail down his hips, as Adam lays his hand over Kris' waist and rolls him into his arms. Kris nuzzles his way into Adam's shoulder, sighing at the way his body feels boneless. The sense memory of Adam's mouth on him sends shivers down his spine.

He hasn't felt this good ever in his life.

“No more running away, baby, okay?”

Kris opens his eyes, meeting Adam's adoring ones, and smiles stupidly -- he's sure -- nodding. “No more running.”

“Good.” Adam drops a kiss on his forehead, then settles his open palm over the flesh of Kris’ stomach. It’s starting to round out now, and Kris places his hand over Adam's.

“She's going to be here soon,” Adam says quietly, eyeing Kris carefully.

Kris narrows his eyes a little. “Yeah. She is.” He's not sure where Adam is going with this.

“So I figure we can just ask Kim and Mom when the wedding date is, and all we have to do is show up, right?”

Kris flicks his gaze up to Adam's face, watches the grin spreading over it and starts laughing.

It's like Kris is always saying… Timing is everything.

 

 _End._

**Author's Note:**

> Much fun was had writing this and I want to thank everyone that encouraged me at kradamadness to finish it. <3
> 
> Feedback loved and appreciated. Leave here or at [DW](http://kradamadness.dreamwidth.org/73972.html?mode=reply).


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